


The Delivery

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: (One of these might be right), Aliens, Consentacles, Don't copy to another site, Eggpreg, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Impregnation, Male robot minor character, Monsters, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Penetration, Mystery, Oviposition, Sex Robots, Sex Shop, Sex Toys, Sexual Experimentation, Tentacle Sex, Weird Biology, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: Tearing the seal open made a fairly satisfying ripping sound and Junko had a moment of anticipation – please! – where she hoped that, just possibly, there might be something inside worthy of distracting her attention from the fact she had far too many hours of work left before she was done. Opening the lid, she experienced an initial amount of relief that the contents weren’t, in fact, porno face masks.Until she peered properly into the box and had to wonder what the hell she was looking at.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Sentient Tentacle Sex Robot/Jaded Japanese Part-time Sex Shop Employee, Tentacle Monster/Original Character(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 323
Collections: Femflash February 2020





	The Delivery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fairleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/gifts).



> For Fairleigh. Your prompts were so fun to write the word count got a little... longer than expected. I hope you like it :)
> 
> CNTW, but a mild touch of dubcon to begin with. The MC Junko is 20/21.
> 
> (Minor robot OMC appears in beginning, intended as part of world building rather than as an actual character. Date adjusted for author reveal; originally published 06/02)

“Junko-san, there’s a new delivery.”

Junko looked up from the magazine she’d been flicking through at the cash register. It was halfway through her late shift and she was bored, which was partly why she’d switched Kensuke on. Not that his name was actually Kensuke, of course. But Super Cute Turbo Dream Boy Bot Series #2 didn’t exactly roll off the tongue when it came to delegating the tasks she was supposed to do to him and he’d never complained, just as he’d never failed to help her out. The creepy old man owner of the sex shop hadn’t seemed to realise Junko had been turning on the prototype robot and so far Junko had always remembered to plug him in and pack him back away again afterwards, so everything was good.

Seriously, Kensuke was probably grateful for the chance to do something other than standing there being prodded by customers, having them comment on the size of his dick. There were other models of dicks for him displayed on the back wall, with descriptions of their varying functions on discreet cards beneath each one, and Junko had grown accustomed to unplugging whichever he was wearing when some perv requested a change, and fixing whatever dangly appendage they’d chosen on.

Kensuke wasn’t for sale, although Creepy Old Man got a cut of the profit whenever whatever factory churned out the finalised version of Super Cute Turbo Dream Boy Bot Series #2 got another order via the shop, and having the Display Only dicks next to all the vibrators and butt plugs and whatnots probably helped those items sell, when people who couldn’t afford to buy a bot of their own tried to find the next best after robo-cock. Kensuke _did_ give discreet demonstrations in the back room on the hour, if the Old Man was there and customers were willing to pay enough – and to probably have him spy on them through the hidden ‘security’ cameras – and Junko was similarly accustomed to taking Kensuke round to the tiny staff toilet afterwards and sluicing off the mess people had made of him in the sink.

Fuck, it made her want nothing to do with sex. Each time she switched Kensuke on during the graveyard shift – when only the stealth perverts or drunks were likely to show up and stare or make lewd comments after finding excuses to call her down to the fake pussy floor – she had him wear pants. She also got him to bar the door and pretend they were closed sometimes, because the Old Man had installed his spy cameras in the back room but not the front, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt – he still had to give Junko her shitty wages even if profits were crap, so she didn't give a damn.

Besides, it paid him back for being an ultra gross lecher whenever he saw her.

“I told you we were playing at being ‘closed’ today,” Junko scolded Kensuke as she popped her gum. She’d learned it was for the best, phrasing things like that for him, like they were a game – no doubt some sex thing she didn’t want to know about.

“I’m sorry, Junko-san,” Slumping prettily so his perfectly quaffed artificial hair fell over his equally artificially soulful dark eyes, Kensuke was the picture of embarrassed regret, “I understood that we were playing the ‘disappointing disgusting horny old bastards by pretending to be closed’ game –” Junko’s words “– but not that I was to refuse deliveries.”

He was still holding the box. Big, potentially heavy, no problem for a robot to carry; the contents possibly marginally interesting. At least more interesting than what she was currently doing; Junko’s magazine was shit anyway.

“Ah, never mind,” Flipping the cover closed, she stood up from her stool, “Here, put that box out the back and then swap places with me?”

She knew she shouldn’t really bother phrasing it as a question, but after late shift after late shift after late shift of just Kensuke’s unchanging company amidst the ebb and flow of perverts, it felt oddly natural.

“Of course, Junko-san!” Perking right back up, Kensuke gave her his Third Most Winsome Smile.

“You can be Silent Boss Who Doesn’t Walk Or Talk Until Junko Says So,” Junko told him, when he’d deposited the box in the back room and practically skipped back over to the cash register.

“Yes please!” For someone who lived a fair portion of his robo-existence in a box, Kensuke was inordinately fond of this game. It also got him out of Junko’s hair for however long without having to bother with the hassle of turning him off, and meant he was ready for her next instruction – lift this tower of pocket-pussies and shove them onto a different shelf; throw away this trashy ‘expensive’ underwear some miser obviously got a little too excited about trying on in the cramped little changing room – which was supposedly just for trying on the trashy nightwear, but people always did claim they didn’t realise they didn't realise and sneak in with other stuff – and then was gross enough to shove back onto the shelves unwashed.

Honestly, nothing could surprise Junko anymore. Not the box of blow-up anime character cushions Kensuke had unpacked earlier – lame and kind of icky; the double headed texture-changing vibro-dildos – sort of intriguing, at least in theory; the horrible euphemisms and 'moe moe' stuff.

Junko had fucking seen it all. Sometimes she thought about leaving and getting a part-time job in a maid café or restaurant or something, but from what her classmates at uni told her, employees there were treated even _worse_. And besides, she would probably have to actually do some work there, rather than snacking and reading her magazines or manga.

Grabbing her latest manga from her bag on the way to the back room in case the box turned out to be dull – maybe just huge vats of lube, like in the three boxes they’d had delivered yesterday – Junko popped her old gum out of her mouth, stuck it on the wall next to the pegs alongside dozens of bits of dried out old gum – her contribution towards the décor, mostly because it drove the Creepy Old Man insane – and folded a new piece into her mouth. It vaguely occurred to her to do some of the long outstanding essay her tutors were expecting her to hand in at uni tomorrow, but –

Nah. She’d just cut the class and sleep in.

Elbowing her way past boxes of junk, Junko traipsed down the corridor to the back room, where, sure enough, Kensuke had left the delivery. On the bed jammed into the corner, over which Junko threw a sheet whenever a customer cared about the mess less than their desire to try out robo-dick and which she had found roaches crawling on once or twice, which was to say far less frequently than in the horrible staff toilet.

Rolling her eyes, Junko tossed her manga to one side and scooped up the box – damn it, not nearly as heavy as she was hoping, which meant it probably was something crap like limited edition porn star face masks or something that absolutely no one ever bought or wore except for the occasional meathead college jock – and propped it on the broken chair shoved against the wall nearby.

Tearing the seal open made a fairly satisfying ripping sound and Junko had a moment of anticipation – please! – where she hoped that, just possibly, there might be something inside worthy of distracting her attention from the fact she had far too many hours of work left before she was done. Opening the lid, she experienced an initial amount of relief that the contents weren’t, in fact, porno face masks.

Until she peered properly into the box and had to wonder what the hell she was looking at.

_‘Akemi-chan’_ said a note written in gold script on thick fancy paper that didn’t belong anywhere inside a sex shop. The name, though – ‘Akemi-chan’ – yeah, that fit. So probably something robot related or maybe it was just the name for a new wand or something. She’d seen toys shaped like Pikachus, like Hello Kitties, like Avengers’ characters –

Ah, she couldn’t be bothered to list them mentally, not when she could just walk out onto the fake pussy floor and see them all there lined up. She’d had Kensuke dusting the boxes they came in earlier.

So. The mystery of ‘Akemi-chan’. Junko peered at the opaque padding stuff beneath the fancy note and wondered, given the size of the box, if she was going to just find a head. Or maybe a butt. They already had a stack of the latter on sale already, actually – each with a fake asshole you could squeeze lube in and fuck, and a different front depending whether you were on the dick or pussy floor of the shop. There was a third variety she’d had Kensuke set out on both floors that – yup, had both.

Frankly if it was down to her, Junko would probably have a certain Super Cute Turbo Dream Boy Bot Series #2 slash errand robot arrange the shop pretty differently, given she suspected Creepy Old Man hadn’t done more than the minimum to rotate the stock for the last fifty years or however long he’d been running the place. Although – then again, customers who wanted to mix up their preferences didn’t seem to have any problem managing the set of stairs and –

Yeah. Moving everything around sounded like it would be way too much work.

Anyway. Setting aside the note for future doodling on, Junko dug her hands into the box and pulled out wads of the stuffing in search of the expected head-butt.

‘Akemi-chan’, it turned out, was not what she expected. Some sort of white, plastic sealed –

Blob.

A blob of what? It looked like a firmer version of that slime stuff her kid brother had played with when he was younger or like a kaiju on some TV show had eaten every product invented by Apple, digested it into semi-liquid and then barfed.

Tucked to one side of the plastic sealed blob, there was a wristwatch like remote to put on. Yawning, Junko picked the device up and poked it a bit, mildly surprised when the battery proved charged and it turned on.

_Hello_ , the watch said and a cute little anime-esque avatar of a – squid? octopus? big boss baddie from her brother’s latest space-pirate-smuggler rpg game? – popped up. It waved a tentacle at her.

“Riiight,” Junko smirked. So it was _that_ sort of sex toy.

Still, the watch-remote looked kind of cool. Strapping it on to see what it looked like on her wrist – more high tech and expensive looking than anything else in the shop other than Kensuke; not bad – Junko returned her attention to the patiently waiting contents of the box.

Poking the plastic wrapped blob, she discovered that it wobbled. The watch beeped.

_Ow_ was displayed on the screen.

Junko blinked. Okay, what the fuck? She poked the blob again.

Wobble. Beep.

_Ow!_

The picture of the squidtopus changed into a depiction of a generic dark-haired anime woman – who was scowling and shaking a fist.

“Oookay,” Junko’s eyebrows quirked. Still, “Like _that_ hurt.”

As if. Snorting, she curled her fingers into a fist to give the thing a curious punch.

_Please don’t!_ The stylised katakana on the screen changed into a hastier script, as if it was scrawled in a rush. Eyeing this, Junko paused, fist upraised.

“How’d the hell you know I was going to punch you?” she blurted.

_I’m equipped with predictive measures and all sort of sensors,_ the watch said, which was kind of annoying to read given the text scrolled across the screen a bit faster than Junko’s eyes wanted to move. She scowled, irritated. The watch beeped, _Let me out of the plastic and I’ll show you._

“Show me _what_ exactly,” Junko glanced at the blob and then back at the screen again with suspicious eyes.

_Uh. What else I’m equipped with?_ The avatar turned back from the woman into the squidtopus, which waved a merry tentacle at her again. _Promise you’ll like them!_

“Yeah no; I’m not that desperate,” Snickering, Junko prodded the watch, glancing at the screen to see both when it was turned off and if she could find a normal time-telling function, “Right, I reckon I’ve got a couple of hours before the 4 a.m. perverts turn up.”

Enough time for a nap – Kensuke could wake her up if any customers came in before then. The shop could get fairly busy, especially on weekends and in the evenings, but often during the latter part of the night the description ‘dead’ wasn’t inaccurate, at least before the nightclubs closed. Who the hell had thought opening a 24 hour sex shop was a good idea anyway? And who thought having a university student as its main employee was a great business decision?

The Creepy Old Man, that’s who.

_“4 a.m. perverts?”_ A stereotypically cute female voice asked, and Junko shrieked.

“Oh my fucking – don’t do that!” 

_“Do what? Speak? You were the one who pressed the ‘audio’ command,”_ Akemi sniffed, although she thankfully dialled down on the ‘kawaii’ a bit. Now Junko was starting to recover from her minor heart attack, she realised that Akemi sounded a bit like – what'shername, that leading lady in a lot of the anime her brother watched. So maybe the factory next door to the one that produced Kensuke and his legion of twin brothers had decided to produce some sort of experimental tentacle blob sex toy and Creepy Old Man had been sent one for the shop as a sample.

Made sense. Kind of, anyway – even if they didn’t usually get deliveries late at night, unless she ordered a sneaky Dominos. Junko mentally shrugged.

“Guess it’s easier than reading the screen,” she agreed, “I suppose you might as well speak.”

“ _Why, thanks so much for the permission,”_ Okay, so tentacle blob-bot had unexpected sass. Surprised, Junko nonetheless smirked a little.

“Your programming is weird,” She said the same to Kensuke an average of four times every shift, mostly because he was always _so damn happy_ and eager to please – whereas Junko had been a member of a girl gang in junior high, depended on cram to get her through high school after that, and generally couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck.

_“I can adapt to circumstances in real time!”_ Akemi said brightly, _“Please unpack me? It’s very boring here in the box.”_

“Er – I guess?” Junko couldn’t really see why not. Besides, this was turning out to be one of the more interesting things that had happened in her experience working at the shop, including that time Kensuke’s dick came off inside a customer.

Junko had to stifle a snicker at the thought. At the same time, she dunked her hands into the box again and scooped the white blob up.

“All right, all right, whatever,” she huffed, unable to deny that she’d be bored silly in there herself and Akemi had endured it for who knows how long.

_“Thank you!”_ Once freed from her plastic wrapping, Akemi –

Wobbled, as she had earlier, and then flopped over in Junko’s stunned hands, hopped down onto the bed, elongated into a roughly cylindrical shape and promptly formed dozens of insect-like little legs.

“Fuuuuck!” Junko _shrieked_.

_“J-Junko-san!”_ Akemi blurted, and Junko was too besides herself to wonder about the fact that _she hadn’t introduced herself_ –

_“Millipede!!”_ They were her one big weakness. A massive nightmare one had scuttled out at her while she was in the bath once as a kid, and she’d never gotten over it.

_“No no!”_ Akemi’s white blob body swelled, rounding out again, and settled into an impression of the squidtopus thing. Two glowing solid green eyes appeared on the part facing Junko, curving happily, _“Look, see?”_

“I – I see,” Junko panted a bit weakly, embarrassment trickling in to replace panic. She even waved back when a tentacle emerged from Akemi’s mass to wave at her. Then said tentacle extended –

“Whaaaat?”

And poked her.

“Gah!”

_“You’re funny,”_ Apparently, where blob things were concerned, making her squeak was the height of comedy. Which –

Well, Junko had got in a fight with a deer twice her size once when it went to steal her convenience store egg mayo sandwich, and she'd nearly won. But the tentacle slipped up to stroke seemingly apologetically over her wrist when she went to form a fist again, and -

Ugh, fine. Maybe her reaction _had_ been kind of funny.

“You’re not to tell anyone I made that noise,” Relenting, she still warned Akemi just in case, “And don’t you dare try punching me!”

_“Of course not!”_ Akemi, much like Kensuke, sounded all too delighted about the prospect of ‘secrets’, her tone turning confiding, _“I like it when humans make noises.”_

Humans? Junko supposed that made sense if factory #2 had been going for an ‘alien’ or ‘monster’ theme with Akemi. A bit of a change from Kensuke, who – from what Junko had regrettably overheard – tended to call customers whatever they asked him to, Junko being swift to kick out any who tried to insist on the totally underserved honorific _–sama_.

The Super Cute Turbo Dream Boy Bot Series #2 might be a sex robot, but he was, in some ways, also the closest Junko had to a friend.

_“Will you let me make things up to you?”_ Akemi asked almost softly. And Junko must have been feeling maudlin – probably about forty percent that and thirty percent tired and ten percent like snacking, which left twenty percent for feeling horny – because she shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess,” Taking out her gum, Junko shot a look over her shoulder at where she knew Creepy Old Man kept his cameras, “Just a second.”

It took rather more than a second to shift dusty old merchandise as needed, blocking them off, and then to poke her head out of the back room, ears peeled, double checking Kensuke was still hard at work being a statue.

Maybe next time she’d offer him her magazine to read or something.

_“Junko-san,”_ Akemi said, still gentle, coaxing, and Junko shut the door and turned around to discover the white blob had tugged out one of the fake silk sheets the Creepy Old Man had a stash of to use when a customer wanted to try out Kensuke and looked like they’d have money to burn after, rather than the ones who’d dash off furtively once they’d paid for their robo-fuck.

God, Junko hoped Kensuke didn’t mind doing it.

“You really want to do this, Akemi?” She thought to check similarly, a bit uncomfortable, “I’m not – Fuck. I’m probably not what you expect of someone who works in a sex shop, okay?”

_“What do you think I expect?”_ Those big green eyes blinked at her. Akemi looked surprisingly cute, perched all rounded and tentacle-y on the sheet spread out over the bed. She paused, making a show of looking Junko up and down, before announcing, _“You’re cute!”_

The last customer to call Junko that had narrowly avoided being got in the balls, before Kensuke escorted him out. But for some reason now Akemi’s comment didn’t make Junko want to kick her.

Well, maybe only a bit. And it was still better than what a fair number of the perverts who came into the shop expected of her.

“Your AI is screwed,” Junko squinted at the blob, “But – ah, whatever, you want to fuck?”

_“Yes please!”_ Akemi bounced up and down.

“Heh, let me get some of my shit off then,” Junko kicked off her shoes, started to tug off her tie and undo her shirt – the Creepy Old Man’s idea of a uniform _far_ too much like a school sailor suit for Junko to wear without a whole lot of scowling and aggressive badges pinned to the collar – and white tentacles stretched out towards her.

_“Will you let me help?”_ Akemi was doing the smiley-eyes again, round blob body poised as if hopeful.

“Heh, whatever,” Junko shifted nearer, because – because – well, she didn’t need to rationalise it. Just that if they were going to do this, then it didn’t cost her anything to oblige.

_“Oh, I like this!”_ Several tentacles went for the fiddly button at her collar, while another few went for her skirt, flipping it up like – well, like a train pervert out for a cheap thrill, except Akemi went one further, a tentacle tip ducking under the fabric to nose at Junko’s thighs and plain safety shorts.

Yeah, she wasn’t about to give any sex shop perverts who might seek to flip up her skirt any more thrills than she was about to give train perverts. Junko caught her hand from slapping the tentacle away, and instead waited to see what it would do.

_“May I?”_ Other tentacles had vanquished her buttons and were easing her shirt off her shoulders, dipping under her bra straps and inside the cups, flicking over her nipples, making Junko bite back on a gasp.

“Any need for me to use this watch thing, except to hear you?” She abruptly remembered she was wearing it.

_“You can switch me off independent mode if you like and go back to inputting commands,”_ Akemi sent out further tentacles to loop around Junko’s thighs, propelling her closer to the bed, while the ones investigating her safety shorts tucked their tips over the elastic waistband and began to ease them down along with the panties she was wearing underneath, _“But I promise it won’t be as much fun.”_

_“_ You’ve got quite a lot to live up to, you realise,” Her breath catching a second time, Junko leaned over to brace her hands on the mattress as the tentacles rubbing her nipples inside her bra changed to plucking them, “Oh –”

The lower tentacles were sliding her underwear off her ankles now, leaving her skirt bunched up around her waist, exposing her to the back room.

_“Yes?”_ Akemi paused.

“Yes! Just – not shaped like a dick, okay?” Junko widened her legs a bit as she felt the first tentacle whisper over her labia, making her shiver. It wasn’t that she had anything against dicks exactly, just like she had nothing against pussy, but after working as long as she had in the sex shop she felt mostly immune to them.

But the thought of what she must look like now with tentacles exploring her mostly naked body –

She shut her eyes.

“ _Sure!”_ Akemi returned happily, and then the tentacle was pushing inside Junko, no more than a finger’s width, just slipping on into her vagina like that.

“Guh –” She wasn’t really wet enough for it, was just a bit damp really, but the feeling of it – not cool, not warm, not plastic, not anything really that she could describe – make her heartbeat kick up a notch, and the tentacles higher up tugged her nipples, a pull of sensation that shot into Junko’s stomach and down to her clit. “Uh –”

_“May I?”_ Akemi repeated happily and Junko must have nodded, because suddenly the tentacle inside her vagina seemed to – to broaden and open up somehow, _changing shape_ –

“Fuck!”

And something seeped out of it, there inside her, coating her inner walls.

“Oh my goddd –” Junko bent over enough she nearly headbutted the mattress when the tentacle drew back, nearly sliding out of her, before pushing back in in a smooth, slippery fuck. “Shit!”

Whatever lube it had exuded made everything a _hundred_ times better.

_“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the bed?”_ Akemi suggested when Junko was crouched in the most ridiculous kind of squat, practically humping the tentacle and not caring less that she was showing off her ass to the back room.

“Don’t – don’t want to squash y-you,” Junko panted, red faced and mewling while the tentacle rubbed enthusiastically at her g-spot, grabbing at the sheet with sweaty hands.

_“Plenty of room for two!”_ Akemi slowed up on the fucking long enough for Junko to climb onto the mattress with shaking legs, roll onto her back and then hitch her knees up as far as she could. _“Lovely!”_

Tentacles looped around Junko’s thighs, guiding her legs apart even more. She moaned throatily.

“M-More –”

_“May I put more little ones in?”_ Akemi suggested and Junko nodded fervently.

So then there was another finger-like tentacle slipping into her hole alongside the first, and then another, and _another_ , and each time she thought there might be too many they changed shape, giving off a gush of that lubricant that made her jump and laugh and tremble with want. The noise the amount of the stuff was making was tremendous, and Junko was well and truly properly wet now herself as well, her neglected clit aching while her nipples throbbed under their tentacles’ tender and attentive care.

“Oh god – oh fuck – please – _please_ touch my clit,” She got out eventually, when the tentacles stuffed inside her vagina had grown longer one by one, taking turns to tickle over her g-spot, mapping out the spaces inside her, brushing up so deep inside her she wondered if they were licking over her cervix.

_“With pleasure!”_ Akemi’s rounded main body was perched on top of Junko’s heaving stomach, curved green eyes peering down at her face with joyful intent. Even as she grinned at Junko, a fresh pair of tentacles coaxed the human’s outer lips open and then the inner ones, revealing Junko’s clit that much more, before squirting a decent sized amount of the lubricant onto it.

“Gah – fuck!” Junko nearly dislodged Akemi, her spasm was so heartfelt.

And then the new tentacles got to rubbing her _exactly_ where she wanted it, while the ones inside her all concentrated on their fucking.

_“Ah – ah – ah!”_ She toppled over into orgasm after precisely fifteen seconds of this, eyes and mouth open, the former unseeing, the latter producing an even higher pitched squeak than earlier.

_“More?”_ Akemi enquired hopefully.

_“Fuck yes!”_ Junko had never agreed to a suggestion so readily. And so the tentacles keep fucking her, kept playing with her nipples, kept circling and swishing and flicking her clit, and Junko came and came and lost count of how many orgasms she managed after a while.

_“Can I –”_ It took her some time to realise Akemi was asking, _“Please, Junko-san, can I come as well?”_

“You – you can do that?” Junko strained to peer up at her, far more enthusiastic about the idea than she would have been before any of this started, “ _How?_ I wanna – I want to –”

Experience that. But also to know that Akemi was getting something out of it more than simply fulfilling the programming built into her by factory #2.

_“You are a most delightful human!”_ Akemi was beaming, by the sound of her voice. If Junko had had any sort of thought left to remember the watch remote, she’d have seen the squidtopus dancing merrily while the anime woman clapped and bowed, _“It’s a bit like – well, very much like laying eggs. A positioning and then a release.”_

“Uh –” Junko blinked. But yeah, she’d seen enough of her brother’s hentai to know how the whole tentacle thing usually went, “Guess that’s not ex-exactly a surprise –”

_“If it doesn’t appeal, it’s no problem,”_ Akemi was quick to reassure, “ _There are plenty of other things we can do.”_

She was still fucking Junko throughout this conversation, slower, almost lazy explorations now, letting the human’s body recover somewhat. Fiddling with Junko’s slick inner and outer lips, lapping at the inner curves of her thighs, stroking over the soft roundness of her ass.

“How big are the eggs?” Junko wanted to know. She brought her hands down from where she’d been grabbing at the sheet and touched Akemi not quite cautiously on the top of her round white body.

_“O-oh, you feel so nice!”_ Akemi shivered, and while Junko had always thought of ‘nice’ being somewhat like a passive aggressive insult, it seemed somehow genuine coming from her white blob friend now.

“I mean, if that’s how you come, then I want to try it out,” She admitted, petting Akemi’s smooth surface without thinking much about it, undeniably pleased when Akemi leaned into it and purred.

And in honesty – deep down, something about the idea of – of the eggs, of having part of Akemi inside her appealed to her.

_“They’re only small,”_ Akemi informed her, _“Shall we try?”_

“Fuck, go for it,” Junko hoisted her legs up further, groaning appreciatively when tentacles wound around her ankles to help support them –

And then the ones inside her seemed to twist together to form into something – not that dick-like – longer, thicker, _sturdier_ than anything Junko had ever thought to put inside herself. Her stomach flexed, brows wrinkling.

“Uhhh –”

_“Here –”_ Akemi announced and then – and then –

There they were, dozens and dozens of round little eggs bubbling out of the tentacle to flood over her cervix, rolling around the insides of her vagina, massaging like the softest of little marbles over her inner walls, while a tentacle vibrated softly at first and then harder at Junko’s clit.

“Oh – oh – ah – _ahhh!_ ” Her head thrown back, spine arched, fists squeezing Akemi’s round white body, Junko’s body threw her hard and fast into the longest, most overwhelming, best orgasm of her life.

_“Oh – oh – Junko-san –”_ Akemi was moaning alongside her, the round mass of her main body contorting, and Junko instinctively dug her hands in the moment she’d recovered, kneading that soft-firm body until Akemi squealed.

_Hah, got you!_ Junko thought, and felt smugly superior until Akemi gathered herself and did the whole egg-laying thing _again_ , which Junko’s body found _just_ as absolutely fucking fantastic.

“Hah – fuck –” She was left shuddering limply against the sweat-soaked sheet for a good ten minutes after Akemi was finally done with her, hugging her new best friend to her chest while idle tentacles stroked her hair.

_“Junko-san, that was all so wonderful,”_ Akemi nuzzled up against Junko’s cheek.

“Fuck yeah,” Junko couldn’t help but grin; she’d been totally converted. Tentacles from now on it was.

A thought belatedly occurred to her.

“Uh, do I just need to squat and push or something for the eggs to come out?” She could still feel them sloshing gently inside her vagina.

_“Yes, that’s right,”_ Akemi confirmed, while the little screen on the watch displayed an image of a pregnancy test. She wiggled her round body happily on top of the human, _“They’ll be ready in about five months.”_

Beneath her, Junko blinked.

“Wait, what?” She relaxed a moment after, “It's just part of your programming to pretend that, yeah?”

_“I’m not sure why you keep mentioning ‘programming’,”_ Akemi formed a pseudo-head just so she could cock it in enquiry.

“You know, from back at the factory when they made you,” Junko indicated the watch remote.

_“Factory?”_ Akemi blinked. On the screen, the anime woman was spreading her hands in mystification.

“Yeah, where it says on the box you came in –” Grunting a bit with the effort, Junko peeled herself reluctantly upwards to fish for the box where it had fallen on the floor, “Uh –”

It was her turn to blink. Having not thought to look for a return address or anything else before, it took her until now to realise that, in fact, the outside of the box was blank.

“Akemi, you _are_ a new kind of sex robot, right?” Flopping back down on the bed again, she narrowed her eyes at her blob friend, even as her free hand groped down to cover her mons.

Because if Akemi _wasn’t_ what Junko had presumed; if instead she'd just gone along with it earlier –

_“Um,”_ Akemi’s green eyes curved as she smiled at Junko, while a tentacle tucked gently inside the entrance of the human’s vagina to check on her precious eggs, _“Actually, about that –”_


End file.
